


Icer

by Fitzsimmonsx



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 14:51:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7896877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fitzsimmonsx/pseuds/Fitzsimmonsx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma wins the debate over what the Night- Night gun is called.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Icer

“I was thinking we could call it the Icer,” Jemma told Fitz. In return, she received a blank look. “What, did you _actually_ think I would let you stick with the Night- Night gun?” The second blank look caused her to groan, looking hopelessly at him. “Fitz, even Ward agreed. It’s a horrible name.”

Fitz started at Ward’s name, glaring at her. “Well, Ward’s opinion doesn’t matter. He knows absolutely nothing about the mechanics of the gun-“

“And what does that have to do with naming it? Just think about Professor Weaver’s face if she saw that one of our inventions had been named the _Night- Night gun_. Please. Personally, I think that the Icer is a much cooler name, anyway.”

Fitz shook his head at her, ignoring her attempt at humor. “Fine,” he told her. “Roshambo. Winner gets to name it.”

Jemma suppressed a victorious smile. Offering roshambo was like admitting defeat when it came to Fitz: he never won against her. She couldn’t see why his cleverness didn’t extend to a simple game of chance, but she would never ask Fitz. He certainly didn’t need a bigger ego.

Jemma took pity on him, and ignored his slumped shoulders when she won. She cheerfully went about gathering all the papers on the Icer, and filled them out properly as he absentmindedly doodled an idea on the back of a receipt with one of her pens.

“Fitz?”

“ _What_ , Simmons?” 

“Guess what I made for dinner?” Jemma stared at her papers, determined not to peek at Fitz. When it was clear he was still ignoring her, she continued. “Prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella sandwiches with just a hint of-“

“Pesto aoli. I know, Simmons.”

But she knew, even without looking, that he was smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
